Merry Christmas, and a Shassie New Year
by Medraut
Summary: In the midst of the Christmas season, Gus finds out about Shawn and Lassie. Fluff. Shassie.
1. I Saw Lassie Kissing Shawn Spencer

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Psych or any of the characters.

If Gus had learned only one thing over the many years he had known Shawn Spencer, it was that Shawn was unreliable. And yet, he still continued to expect things of his friend. Things like having his phone, flushing the toilet, locking doors, and being relatively on time. In this particular instance, Shawn had caused some sort of discrepancy in the Psych financial records, and so Gus was forced to call his associate in on this Friday night to try to sort this mess out. Gus sat as his desk looking at the clock, drumming his fingers impatiently. It had been nearly two hours since he had spoken to Shawn. Miraculously, Shawn had answered his cell phone. When Gus offered to pick him up to bring him to the office, he had said that he would get there on his own and was leaving right away. So where was he now? It was after 11 o'clock, and Gus had much better things to be doing than waiting for Shawn.

He was just beginning to nod off when he heard a car pull up in front of the office. He hopped out of his chair and snuck to the window to find out what the hell Shawn's reason was for keeping him waiting so long. He could just barely make out under the light of the street lamp Shawn sitting in the passenger seat of the car and Detective Lassiter behind the wheel. _Wait – what? Lassiter?_ Gus did a double-take. It was definitely Lassiter's car, but it just didn't make any sense. _What the hell is Lassiter doing driving Shawn around? What kind of trouble did Shawn get himself into this time?_

As Gus was running through what Shawn's possible antics could have been, he found himself observing a scene that he simply could not believe. Shawn reached across the center of the car and set his hand at the back of Lassiter's neck. The detective turned to be able to touch Shawn's waist. They leaned towards each other and met in a long kiss.

"What?" Gus uttered aloud in shock. He scrambled back to his desk chair, trying to look normal, as if he had been there the whole time, which he wished were the case. He tried to scour the image from his mind as he waited for Shawn to come inside. He jumped when the door latch clicked to indicate his friend's entrance.

"What's up, man?" Shawn called out as he tossed his jacket over the doorknob. He turned around to find Gus glaring at him from over his computer screen. "Wha'd I do?"

"You were supposed to be here two hours ago, Shawn," Gus said stiffly.

"Was I?" Shawn plopped down into his own chair opposite Gus and set his feet up on the desk. "Why am I here anyways?"

"Cause we got something screwy going on with the books and I need to figure out what you did. We've got almost two-hundred and fifty dollars missing and unaccounted for as of last week. What did you do?"

"Oh, that," Shawn acknowledged with a smirk. " I bought some stuff for the office."

"What kind of 'stuff'?"

"Christmas decorations."

"You bought two-hundred and fifty dollars worth of Christmas decorations?" Gus was incredulous. "Well… where are they now then?"

"Oh, you'll see soon enough. Well, I'm getting pretty bored of this, Gus. Can you bring me home now?"

"You are ridiculous, Shawn." He paused. "Fine."


	2. Deck the Office

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

As much as he tried not to, Gus could not help but find himself attempting to grasp what he had observed between Shawn and Lassiter. Despite Shawn's frequent involvement with women, he had always suspected that his friend was not entirely heterosexual. Shawn flirted with just about everyone, all the time, regardless of gender. Gus could deal with the idea of Shawn being with a man. In fact, he was pretty sure that he'd caught a glimpse of a guy leaving Shawn's room once when his friend had been staying over at his place. The gender really wasn't the issue here. The thing that baffled Gus was that it was Lassiter. He was pretty certain that the head detective could not stand Shawn. And there was barely a moment when Shawn was not insulting or mocking Lassiter in some way or another. But maybe it was like one of those middle school things, when your mom would tell you that the boy or girl who spent all of lunchtime teasing you was only doing so because he or she liked you. Shawn did often exhibit that he had the general mindset of a twelve-year-old, after all. Even if that were the case, when the hell did that happen? How did Gus not know about it? He was going to find out what was going on. Forget propriety and awkwardness. This was Shawn Spencer he was dealing with. Those sorts of things didn't matter.

When Gus pulled into his parking spot at the Psych office on Monday morning, he found out exactly where those two-hundred and fifty dollars had gone. The door, gutters, and windows were lined with large colorful lights and accented with loops of sparkling garland. Unrealistically-sized candy canes stood along the base of the building and lighted wreaths hung in the door and windows. An inflated Santa Claus in a sleigh sat atop the roof. Gus nervously opened the door to the office, afraid of what holiday madness might await him inside. He entered and found the interior similarly decked in lights and garland, with a huge decorated tree that looked like it barely fit in the room. Shawn was standing by the window, arranging the multitude of dancing, singing holiday characters that he had placed there.

"Damn, Shawn," Gus said to get his friend's attention.

Shawn spun around and smiled, but instead of replying, he squeezed the foot of the Abominable Snowman, which proceeded to play "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas" as it danced and lit up.

"I can understand the holiday spirit, Shawn," Gus said once the music had ceased, "but don't you think this is a little overkill?"

"To quote … well, someone I can't remember: 'Nothing succeeds like excess'," Shawn retorted.

Something about that quote jogged the back of Gus' memory, and reminded him of the question that he'd been dwelling on since Friday night. Already rather frustrated with his friend, he resolved to just cut to the chase and ask flat out.

"Shawn, what's going on with you and Lassiter?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Shawn replied. Gus was surprised by the nonchalance in his tone, until he recalled that his friend basically lied for a living.

"I'm talking about what the deal is with you and Lassiter dating or hooking up or whatever the hell it is," Gus clarified.

"Gus, don't be a miniature purple ostrich. Why would I be dating Lassie?"

"Nuh-uh, Shawn. You can't just laugh this one off. I saw you two sucking face when he dropped you off here Friday night."

Just for a split second, Gus caught a serious look of concern, or even panic, flicker across Shawn's face, before it bounced back into a derisive smile.

"Well, clearly your investigative skills have not improved since getting into business with me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Gus, Lassie and I have been together since October," he laughed, "and it's taken you this long to figure it out."

"You could have told me like a normal person. Aren't we supposed to be best friends?"

"I preferred to think of it as an investigative training exercise."

"Investigative training exercise, my ass! You are so full of crap."

"True, true. But that's hardly the point," Shawn smirked. "The real point here is that you are oblivious."

He broke into a sing-song chorus of "Gus is oblivious" as he skipped around the office.

**Author's note:** Yay! I've got tons of alerts now! Don't forget to review too! I don't know if the next update will be in as short a time as this one, but it should be in the next couple days.


	3. Disaster Bells

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Psych.

It was shaping up to be a rather slow Monday at the Santa Barbara Police Department. Carlton Lassiter was rather dismayed that this was most likely going to be a paperwork day, rather than a kicking in doors, interrogating suspects, examining evidence day. And that was precisely why he was surprised to hear the voices of Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster invading the outside corridor.

"Spencer! What are you doing here?" Carlton shouted out the doorway. "Who the hell called you in?"

"No one," Shawn replied, sliding through the head detective's office doorway, with Gus not far behind.

"Then why are you here?" Carlton scowled.

"Your memory's worse than I thought, Lassie." Shaw leaned onto Carlton's desk. "I'm a psychic – remember? I didn't need to be called in. I could just sense that I would be needed here today."

Shawn's voice ceased, but his lips continued to move, as he looked directly into Carlton's eyes: "I need to talk to you."

The detective furrowed his brow and tilted his head in puzzlement. This was not police business, he was certain, but he could not let anyone else know that.

"Well, either way, you can get your elbows off my desk," Carlton growled, slapping a stack of papers on the desk. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

Instead of obeying, Shawn scooted further across the desk and closer to the man opposite him. Just as Carlton raised a hand to shove him away, the ring of the telephone clattered in his ears.

"Lassiter," Carlton answered, shooting a sideways smirk at Shawn. "I see… Yes… We'll be on our way." He hung up the phone. "Looks like you were right. We got a case. Let's roll."

He summoned Detective O'Hara and the four proceeded to the parking lot. However, instead of following their usual driving arrangement, Lassiter found Shawn hopping into the passenger's seat beside him, while Gus and Juliet rode together. Now his routine was being interrupted. _What the hell is going on here? ,_ he thought.

"Why are you here, Shawn?"

"Because we're going to the crime scene," Shawn replied matter-of-factly.

"That's not what I meant," Carlton snapped. "Why are you in this car now?"

"I told you – I have to talk to you."

"Does it have to be on the way to a case?"

"Well, it's pretty important. I thought you'd like to know as soon as possible, and I didn't know when else I'd get a chance to catch you alone."

"Fine," Carlton resigned, and at last started up the car and pulled out onto the road. "What it is then?"

"Can we listen to Christmas music?"

"No!" The detective was quickly losing his patience. "Just say what you have to say!"

"Alright, alright. No need to get angry," Shawn took a deep breath and swallowed. He was terrified to say this and, more importantly, how the other man might react. "Well, we've got a little bit of a problem on our hands."

"What kind of problem, Shawn?"

"Gus knows. About us, I mean."

Carlton's body tensed, causing him nearly to lose control of the vehicle. "Wh – what? I – I thought we had agreed that we weren't going to tell anyone about this."

"I know. Nobody told anybody. I guess he saw us when you dropped me off the other night. He asked me about it this morning."

"Well, what did you tell him?" The detective could feel his hands trembling.

"I made fun of him for not figuring it out sooner. I even sang a 'Gus is oblivious' song. I think I handled it pretty well."

Carlton was silent. He had no idea what to do, what to think, or what to say to the man sitting beside him. This was a nightmare. It was exactly what he had so desperately hoped would not happen. Someone knew. He could not handle that. Not now. He felt as if his brain were hyperventilating, running a million miles an hour, but still going nowhere. Before he even realized where he was or how long it had been, he saw the glint of the yellow police tape ahead. Robotically, he maneuvered the car to a stop and exited the vehicle. With his back to Shawn, he said the first words since he had been bombarded with this terrible news.

"Leave me alone. Just... stay away from me. I need to think."


	4. Shawn'll Have a Blue Christmas

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Psych.

Shawn sat huddled in a corner of the office, clutching a stuffed plush pineapple to his chest. Tears were welling up in his eyes. That particular fact was probably not helped by the fact that Elvis Presley's "Blue Christmas" had been playing on repeat for the past hour and a half. He hummed lightly along and signed as he wiped a stray runaway tear from his cheek. He turned the day's events over in his head again and again.

_Why do I have to be so damn stupid?_, he thought, slamming his head back against the wall. _I should have waited, and not told him at work. He's always so stressed. I should have waited till later. Why did I have to do that? I screwed everything up. He's probably going to give up on me now._

The spiraling thoughts in Shawn's head were interrupted by Gus' voice calling his name. He looked up to find Gus standing over him.

"What's going on, Shawn?" Gus asked.

Shawn did not respond.

"This is about Lassiter, isn't it?" he pressed.

"I don't want to talk about it," Shawn muttered, avoiding Gus' gaze.

"Come on. You can talk to me. I'm not gonna tell anyone. Just like I'm not gonna tell anyone about you and Lassiter to begin with"

Shawn looked up, silently asking for affirmation.

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Gus inquired. "You all think I'm gonna out you, don't you? I wouldn't do that, Shawn. As juicy gossip as it is – and you know how I like my gossip – I would never do that to you. You should know that."

"It doesn't matter," Shawn mumbled. "I still screwed up."

"What do you want then? I could promise Lassiter myself that I won't say a word to anyone."

The image of that scenario popped into Shawn's mind. He could see Gus standing awkwardly at the detective's desk, swearing in a hushed voice that he would never, ever tell anyone that he saw Carlton and Shawn kissing. Carlton would most certainly not react well to that. Gus would probably end up running out of the office having been hit by some sort of flying object.

"No," Shawn said. "Don't do that. I've gotta deal with this myself, I guess."

"Okay, well, let me know if you need something –though, preferably not something that involves the use of my credit card. But really, as supremely weirded out by all this as I am, I don't want to feel guilty for messing up your relationship or whatever. Especially since it's not with my sister this time."

"Alright," Shawn allowed, standing up and shutting off Elvis' somber holiday crooning. "I'll let you know if I need anything."

Shawn set his pineapple back in its home in his bottom desk drawer and turned back to his friend. He grinned and patted Gus on the shoulder.

"You did hear the 'no credit card' part, right?" Gus asked.

"Oh Gus, don't be an uncomfortably fuzzy piece of cedar. It's the Christmas season! The time of giving!"

Before Gus could stop him, Shawn had snatched his credit card from its new hiding place inside the front cover of his copy of _Covalent Bonds and You_ and skipped out the door.

"Shawn! SHAWN!"

**Author's Note: **Wow, two updates in one day! I really ought to start paying attention in class more, haha. Anyways, don't forget to tell me what you think! :)


	5. All Shawn Wants for Christmas Is Lassie

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Psych.

Carlton downed yet another beer and slammed his glass down on the bar counter. It had been a long day. Since his disastrous ride to the crime scene, they had managed to muddle through the case, thanks to Shawn's psychic contributions, although it was highly uncomfortable for all involved. Once the suspects were in custody, Carlton got out of there as soon as he could and made his way to his usual brooding spot at the bar. Five or six beers later, he was still there.

_Damn it_, he thought, rubbing his temples. _Why do things always have to happen? Nothing can ever work out for me, can it?_

Things had been going so well for him and Shawn. He had begun to hope that whatever it was that they had going on between them was actually going to last. Then again, things had once been good with his ex-wife. And that most certainly had not turned out well. Why should he have expected any different this time around?

_Everything would have been fine if no one found out. God damned Guster._

He was simply not ready to have anyone know. He could not deal with that. If it was just between the two of them, then that was one thing. Now this – this was a horse of a different color.

The detective sighed and rested his head on his arm. It was definitely time to go home. Even with that much beer in his system, he had enough sense to know his limits. He dialed for a cab before he had enough time to be tempted by the draw of another drink. The cab arrived shortly, and Carlton slid in, leaning against the window. Bustling shoppers, colorful trees and twinkling lights rolled by, as if taunting him with their cheer.

They reached the destination in what felt like an inordinately long time. Carlton paid the driver and dragged himself up to the door to his apartment. He absently fumbled for his keys and nearly tripped over something at his feet. Having finally located the keys, he reached down and picked up the cause of his near-tripping. It was a massive bundle of what he estimated to be about three dozen dark red roses with a note tucked inside. His name was written on the paper in sloppy, blocky letters that were all too familiar.

"Shawn," he muttered to himself.

Carlton unfolded the paper to read just four short words in that same atrocious handwriting: "Please don't leave me." He stuck the note back between the stems and shut his eyes for a moment, as though that would erase what he had just seen. He could not think about this mess anymore. He was just going to go to bed and deal with it later. Securing the bundle under his arm with difficulty, due to the multitude of flowers, he turned the key in the lock and shoved the door open with his shoulder. He trudged to the table, where he set down the bouquet and flung off his jacket.

A creaking footstep pieced the silence of the dark apartment. The detective spun on his heel and whipped out his gun, poised to fire at the intruder.

"Wait! Wait! Don't shoot!" called a familiar voice.

"What are you doing here?" Carlton said gruffly, flicking on the light to illuminate the figure of Shawn Spencer, and returning his weapon to its holster. "I could have killed you!"

"Well, I thought I'd given you enough of a hint."

"Leaving something at someone's door is hardly a 'hint' to anticipate a break-in. And you still haven't answered my question: what are you doing here?"

"I know you read my note, so now I'm beginning to think that you may be losing your touch, Mister Detective."

"Don't be a smartass, Shawn. Now is not the time for your crap."

"It's not crap." Shawn stepped closer to Carlton until he was mere inches away. "I'm being completely serious here."

The detective swallowed and tried to maintain his composure. Shawn's warm breath tempted him with closeness.

"What do you want, then?" he said through a clenched jaw.

"You, Carlton," Shawn said, looking directly up into his eyes.

Carlton had always had a weakness for hearing Shawn utter his first name, rather than the derisive nicknames he usually used in public. He struggled to resist the almost magnetic force pulling him toward Shawn. It seemed that time skipped a beat. Without noticing the space between them close, Carlton found himself lost in a kiss with the other man. He was about to pull away, when he felt Shawn's hands rest on his hips. With the comfort of that touch, he eased back into the kiss. His own hands found their way to the back of Shawn's neck.

"So?" Shawn asked once they had separated. "You said this morning that you needed time to think. Well, what do you think now?"

"Shawn, I have to say, I –"

"Wait," Shawn interrupted in hurried panic. "Before you say anything, just so you know, Gus said he'd never tell anybody, so you don't actually have to worry about everybody finding out. I mean, assuming you'd be okay if it's just him, since he's my best friend and all. But you really don't –"

"Shawn!" Carlton gripped the other man by the shoulders. "Get a hold of yourself! Just let me talk. Alright?"

"Uh – okay," Shawn stammered.

"What I started to say was that I have to admit that my first instinct was that it wouldn't work out anymore if anybody knew –"

Shawn's eyes widened.

"But," Lassiter emphasized to quell Shawn's obvious dread, "I realized that all that doesn't matter. I don't want to lose you. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes not to."

Shawn through his arms around the other man and planted a sloppy, joyful kiss on his lips.

"So, what does that mean," Shawn asked," you know, for us?"

"This is what it means: you know about the department Christmas party?"

"Of course." A smile began to creep across his face in anticipation.

"Well, will you go with me? As my date?"

Shawn answered wordlessly with another kiss. Carlton lifted the beaming Shawn and carried him to the bedroom.

**Author's Note: **So, in some ways I feel like that should have taken a little longer for Lassie to figure out his angst, but I just couldn't stand to have them being like that any longer. It's supposed to be a fun Christmas fic. Also, thank you for the reviews! You guys are great!


	6. Wake Up Ye Merry Gentlemen

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

The abrasive blare of an alarm clock roused Shawn from a comfortable sleep. He curled closer around the warm body beside him. Carlton stretched out of Shawn's grip enough to reach the "off" button on the alarm.

"Shawn," he murmured drowsily, "I've got to get up."

"But why?" Shawn ran his fingers lightly along Carlton's bare chest. "Can't we stay here?"

"You may be able to do what you want, but one of us has actual responsibilities to the city. I have to go to work."

"Fine," Shawn sighed, allowing the other man to hoist himself out of bed and savoring the glimpse of his lover in the early morning light. Carlton shot back a crooked sneer when he realized he was being ogled.

"You know," Shawn continued with eyebrows suggestively raised, "I kinda have to take a shower too…"

"Then you can take one after me. And don't you play that saving-time-by-taking-only-one-shower card with me, because you know it'll only take longer. And I am not going to be late because of you."

Carlton disappeared into the bathroom without staying long enough to be convinced otherwise, and re-emerged as Shawn was finally dragging himself out of the bed.

"Jesus Christ, you're slow!" Carlton exclaimed with a slight laugh. "Get a move on! Chop, chop!"

Shawn stumbled his way in and out of the shower and then into the kitchen with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. Carlton sat at the table already fully dressed, sipping his morning cup of coffee. He glanced up at the nearly bare man who stood in front of him and winked.

"That's a good look for you." Carlton smirked.

"While I know I do have stunning body," Shawn said, "I feel that it might be too much for some people and that it might be best if I cover up a little more. But I realized that the clothes I wore yesterday are kinda gross. Can I borrow yours?"

"Um, sure, I guess."

Once Shawn had dressed himself in some of Carlton's more casual clothing and grabbed a quick bite to eat, the two hopped into the detective's car. They had somehow managed to be early enough that Carlton could take the brief detour to drop Shawn off at the Psych office on his way to the police department.

"Can we listen to Christmas music this time?" Shawn pleaded, with his finger poised to turn on the radio.

"Fine. But only if you keep it really quiet. I've got to be able to hear if I get a call. And I'm a little hung over."

Shawn laughed, but still obeyed and kept the volume low as Bruce Springsteen's version of "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town" began to play and he air-guitared along with the music. Carlton pulled up in front of the festively bright office just as the song was switching to some terrible, warbling pop version of "White Christmas".

"Well, I guess I oughtta go," Shawn resigned and reached for the door handle.

"Wait," Carlton said, "before you go…"

He took Shawn by the shoulder and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Both men smiled.

"I just wanted to kiss you goodbye first," the detective said.

Shawn nodded with a grin and stepped out of the car. He looked back to Carlton as he approached the office, waving him on as he opened the door. He entered the building to find Gus already there, which was no surprise. Gus, however, looked rather puzzled.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Gus asked, eying the baggy blue button-down and too long black trousers that his friend had donned, rather than his usual polo and jeans.

"I think it's pretty obvious that I'm wearing a shirt and pants," Shawn replied. "Less easy to tell is the fact that I also have on boxers and socks, but I figured that would be assumed. Though, I have been known to go commando on occasion."

"That's not what I mean. I mean those don't look like your clothes. You look ridiculous. Hold up a second –" Gus paused a moment, "Are those – is that Lassiter's?"

"That's classified information."

"Whatever, Shawn. I guess that means you two got your stuff figured out then, huh?"

"What's to figure out?" Shawn smiled and reclined in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk and folding his arms lazily behind his head.

"I ought to slap you, you know that?"


	7. Rockin' Around the SBPD

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

Thursday was the night of the Santa Barbara Police Department holiday party. Since it was only one week before Christmas, it had been more sensible for the department to make arrangements for a weekday. They had booked at hall in the Fireside Inn, a nice rustic restaurant, located just a few blocks away in case of emergency. The room was decked in warm reds and greens, with a large evergreen and twinkling white lights and Nat King Cole's melodic carols playing softly in the background. Carlton surveyed the scene around him as he paced back and forth. Nearly all of the department was present, most accompanied by friends, dates, or spouses, save for a handful of new officers who had bargained to work that night rather than the Christmas holiday itself. His date, however, had yet to arrive.

Just a matter of hours ago, ha and Shawn had spoken, clearing up that the latter had a few things to take care of and would meet the detective at the party. Carlton glanced at his watch. It was 7:02. Shawn had said that he and Gus would be arriving by seven o'clock. Not _around _seven; _by_ seven. He should have expected that Shawn would be late. He always was.

"Lassiter," Juliet called out, approaching the head detective with a glass in hand, "You look a little on edge. What's up?"

"Nothing, O'Hara," he snapped. "And I am not on edge."

"Whatever you say," she said, shrugging and shaking her head. "Try to relax, though. This is supposed to be fun – remember?"

He stole a look at his watch again. 7:03. He was starting to have second thoughts about inviting Shawn in the first place, regardless of his stress-inducing tardiness. Perhaps he was not quite as ready for this as he had thought he might be. He was just beginning to toy with the idea of leaving early when the heavy wooden door creaked open and Shawn and Gus entered the room. He froze as Shawn made eye contact from across the room. Cracking his neck and adjusting his shoulders, Carlton took a few slow steps. Shawn likewise headed towards the detective, pausing to exchange pleasantries and one-liners with those he passed.

"You're late," Carlton grumbled, stopping a few feet apart from the other man.

"Am I? Are you sure your watch isn't just a little off?" Shawn joked. "You're definitely the type to set all your clocks exactly four minutes fast so that you'll always be on time, even when you're running late."

Carlton glared, not amused. He looked at his watch yet again. It was now 7:04. And it was true – he did, in fact, set all of his clocks four minutes ahead for that precise reason. Shawn knew him well, a fact that simultaneously disturbed and thrilled the detective.

"Well…" Carlton paused, feeling his nerves tighten.

"Well," Shawn said, placing his hand around Carlton's waist and leading him towards the crowd, "let's go have a little fun. This is a party, after all, even if it is a cop party."

Carlton cautiously followed Shawn's lead as they approached Juliet, who was currently engaged in a conversation with Gus.

"Shockingly, I see Gus has managed to effectively socialize without my presence for once," Shawn interrupted.

"Shawn!" Gus exclaimed, both out of frustration at his, albeit expected, rudeness and out of surprise at the sight of the two men together there. "Wh – what?"

"Jules, I hope you haven't been too traumatized by Gus' social ineptitudes and that it will in no way negatively impact you holiday celebrations," he continued, ignoring his friend's comment.

"Wait – what on earth is going on here?" Juliet inspected the sight in front of her.

"I think it's obvious that I'm insulting Gus."

"Shawn, don't be an idiot," Carlton muttered. He paused to take a deep breath and wrapped his arm around Shawn's shoulder. "O'Hara, well, you see, Shawn and I… we're…you know…"

There are often those unfortunate moments when, in a crowded and talkative room, all other conversations fall into a lull at the same time, leaving one uncommonly awkward statement audible to all present. This was one of those moments.

"You're dating?" Juliet blurted out into the suddenly silent room.

All eyes immediately turned to Carlton and Shawn. Gasps and murmurs began to fill the quiet.

"Well, that was definitely not how this was supposed to happen," the detective said.

"That was also not what I had in mind," Shawn chewed his lip.

"No?" Carlton's voice dripped with bitter, exasperated sarcasm. "If you didn't want it loudly announced to the entire department by my partner, how would you have preferred it go?"

"No, my psychic senses had told me that it would be a little more like this…"

Shawn wrapped both arms around the detective's waist and kissed him. The shocked faces of the other officers faded into the background as Carlton shut his eyes and kissed Shawn back, entwining his fingers into his hair.

**Author's Note: **First of all – thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it! Also, I'm sorry that this one took a bit longer than the others. I had a lot of schoolwork over the past couple days. But you can definitely expect the next update sooner. :)


	8. Make the Yuletide Gay

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

_Did I really just do that?_ Shawn thought as he surveyed the faces, ranging from shocked to amused to confused, of the police officers who had just witnessed him kissing Head Detective Carlton Lassiter. His eyes darted to catch the gaze of the man at his side. Carlton looked surprisingly composed.

"Alright, folks," the detective announced firmly, as though he were shooing nosy civilians away from a crime scene, "there's nothing to see here. Go about your business, or else you'll be asking for trouble."

Most of the department was intimidated enough to at least pretend to involve themselves in other conversations.

"Even among cops, you are such a cop," Shawn laughed.

Carlton rolled his eyes and scoffed. Shawn smirked back at him and not-so-subtly placed a hand on Carlton's ass affectionately. The detective jumped back. However, despite the glare that was shot at him, Shawn read a hint of infatuated amusement in Carlton's cocked eyebrow and smiled.

"Come on," Shawn urged. "Let's get something to eat. All this drama is making me hungry"

Carlton accompanied Shawn to the banquet table, where both loaded their plates with all manner of delicious foodstuffs. They took seats at a table and were shortly joined by Gus and Juliet. Carlton shifted uncomfortably and tried not to make eye contact. Shawn nodded to acknowledge their presence as he gobbled down his food.

"Um, Lassiter, Shawn," Juliet said meekly, clearing her throat.

"What?" Carlton grumbled.

"I just … I just wanted to apologize," she explained. "I didn't mean to blurt that out so loud like that. I'm really sorry. Really."

"Don't make a fool of yourself blathering on like that, O'Hara. What's done is done."

"But," Juliet cautiously continued. "You really are, you know, together, then?"

Shawn glanced up at Gus almost accusingly.

"I told her she should talk to you two," Gus clarified in preemptive defense. "Though, I thought that little stunt made it pretty damn clear."

Shawn wanted to shoot back some sort of witty reply, probably lampooning Gus' prior obliviousness to the situation, but he hesitated. He figured it would be better to let the detective handle the situation with his partner.

"Well, O'Hara," Carlton said after a silent moment, "I guess you could say that."

"Say that you are together, you mean?" she asked.

"Yes. I mean, personally, I think I'd say that he's my boyfriend," he said with a nearly condescending matter-of-factness.

Shawn could not control the huge grin that spread across his face. _Boyfriend_, he thought. _He's never called me his boyfriend before. Not even just between us. But now… I'm really his boyfriend._

"Shawn?" Juliet asked, observing the daze in his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Am I alright?" he parroted, glowing. "Of course I'm alright. I'm fine. Haven't you seen? This is my boyfriend. Right here! My boyfriend!"

Carlton chuckled and put a hand on Shawn's shoulder.

"You can calm down now," the detective said. "You've already made one scene this evening. There's no need to make another."

"I'm not making a scene," Shawn retorted. "I'm just… I'm just…"

Shawn's rather futile attempt to justify him excitement trailed off into unintelligible mumbles and eventually lapsed back into a silent smile. The attention was directed away momentarily as Buzz McNab approached the table.

"Hey guys," Mc Nab said with an awkwardly friendly grin. "I just wanted to say, well, congratulations. I can't say I saw it coming, but, well, it just looks like you're very happy. So, as I said, congratulations! And Merry Christmas!"

"Oh, I'm very, very happy," Shawn said and swung his arm around Carlton.

**Author's Note: ** Sorry about the delay. I was busier than I thought I would be over the past few days. And thanks to those who reviewed! I really appreciate it! And… just as a note to everybody following this, so you know what to expect: this is a Christmas story. So I'm going to have probably one more before then. And then, as the title kinda implies, there's going to be at least one or two after for New Year's, just so you know.


	9. Just One Wish on This Christmas Eve

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

Shawn burst into the Psych office on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, laden with shopping bags filled with last minute gift purchases, which was, as one might expect, _all_ of the Christmas gifts he was giving. He popped in a CD of Muppets Christmas music and spread out the gifts and wrapping supplies on the floor. He hummed along as he wrapped the items in assorted colorful paper and topped them with sparkling bows. Once all of the packages had been tucked away in a large sack, he picked up his phone and dialed a number.

_Please pick up, please pick up_, Shawn thought anxiously as it rang on the other line.

"Lassiter," came the answer

"Hey, Carlton," Shawn said. "It's me."

"I'm at work, Shawn. I don't really have time to talk."

"I know. I'll be quick. I just have a couple of questions."

"Fine. Just make it fast."

"Alright, well, first of all: are you working tomorrow?"

"No, I'm not. I've got enough seniority to be able to get it off. Why?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to, you know, spend the holiday together? If you're not doing anything else…"

"Of course I would."

"So, I was thinking, we could stay at your place tonight, and then maybe we could go to my dad's or something in the morning…"

"Um, sure." Lassiter muttered something to someone on his end and then said to Shawn, "Listen, I've really got to go. I'll talk to you later tonight. We can do dinner. You know, for Christmas Eve"

"Okay. I'll be hanging out at the office. So just stop by and pick me up."

They said their goodbyes and went about their own business. Shawn happily bounced about, pleased that Carlton had accepted his plan for the holiday. However, there was still one more call he needed to make. Shawn punched the numbers into his phone and waited for the answer.

"Hello?" Henry Spencer said on the other end.

"Hi, Dad."

"Shawn! So, do you have an answer for me about tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I guess I'll be there. But I do have a question: is it alright if I bring a guest?"

"Sure thing! In fact, you can bring as many people as you want, since my buddies won't be coming. I'll need somebody to eat all this food I've got. You see, turns out Buck is having a big thing up at his cabin, so they all backed out at the last minute."

"Alright, Dad, I don't really need to hear about your lack of friends. I'll see you tomorrow."

Shawn hung up before he got caught up in a painfully boring conversation with his father. He busied himself with online games and other such nonsense for a few hours. Just after five thirty, Shawn heard a car roll up to the office and a door open and shut. He scrambled to get his things together and was at the door just as Carlton turned the knob.

"Hey, Carlton," Shawn said, shutting the door behind him.

He planted a quick kiss on the other man's lips. Carlton smiled.

"Come on, let's get going. I'm starving," the detective said and the two got into the car.

They drove a few blocks and settled on the typical Christmas Eve dining location – a Chinese restaurant. They were seated at a corner table and placed their orders.

"So, about tomorrow…" Shawn said as they waited for their food.

"What about it?" Carlton replied. "It sounded like you had some plans in mind."

"Well, yeah. I mean, you get along with my dad – sort of, as much as anyone can, I guess. So I was thinking maybe we could go over to his place. He said he really wants me to come."

"Sure. I guess so."

"Okay, good. Because I already told him we're coming." He paused. "Well, technically, I told him that I was coming and bringing someone. I didn't specify who."

"Yeah, if you're…you know…" Carlton sounded a little apprehensive.

"I figured that if the whole police department knows by now, I probably ought to mention it to my dad, too. Or something," Shawn said with a shrug.

Carlton pursed his lips in contemplation, but his thoughts were disrupted by the arrival of their dinner.

"Whatever," Shawn said, immediately digging in. "There's no point in stressing about it now."

He smiled and waved his chopsticks in the air. Carlton grudgingly took a bite, then another, and eventually devoured the food with the appropriate hunger of a man who had been doing detective work nearly nonstop all day.

"Oh, by the way," Shawn said between sloppy mouthfuls of lo mein, "how has the rest of the department been? If you don't mind my asking. We haven't really talked about that."

"Well," Carlton swallowed. "Nobody's really said anything about it at all. I guess I'm not really surprised by that. Except O'Hara, though."

"Jules? What's she been doing?"

"Oh, nothing much really. Just kind of pestering me. Asking questions, making jokes, pointing out the irony of the situation, that sort of thing. Overall, acting a lot like you."

"I pester you?" Shawn exaggeratedly feigned shock. "I had no idea! Why ever didn't you tell me?"

"Ha ha. Very funny. But seriously, hadn't she said anything to you?"

"Not a word. Nothing at all." He paused laughed. "That's not true at all. She actually did. She sort of congratulated me, I guess you could say. Oh, and she asked if she should threaten you, you know, if you break my heart or whatever. The usual shtick."

"There haven't been any threats yet."

"That's because I told her not to. Mainly because, although she is a fine cop who can certainly hold her own in a fight, she would never be a match for you physical prowess, which I can personally attest to," Shawn said with a quick wink.

"You – you said that?" Carlton said, with a flattered smile creeping across his face.

"Well, I can, duh. Like, for example, the time when you pinned me against the wall and –"

"Shawn! Not now!" Carlton snapped.

The detective scowled and furrowed his brow, but the slight hint of flush in his cheeks betrayed to Shawn that Carlton was not truly angry.

"You said 'not now,'" Shawn said with a smirk, "so does that mean later is good, though? Because, you know, I'm really feeling like –"

"Shawn! Please!"

"'Please' what?" Shawn said, leaning across the table and licking the corner of his lip suggestively.

"Cut it out, Shawn!" Carlton snarled desperately and grabbed the other man by the shoulder, pushing him back against the chair with one forceful shove.

"You do realize that really is not helping the situation at all, right? I mean, that's exactly the sort of thing I was talking about."

The silent look of dismay on Carlton's face indicated to Shawn that perhaps he had gone a bit too far, although he the interaction that had just transpired did leave him feeling somewhat excited. He opted to change the topic of conversation with a few lighthearted jokes and questions about the other man's Christmas Eve workday, which carried through until the two had finished their meal and left the restaurant.

"So, am I staying over with you tonight?" Shawn asked once they were in the car.

"Of course," Carlton replied. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

**Author's Note: ** This is way later than I intended. And way after Christmas, but whatever. Things came up. I think there will be one more installment, and it should be up within the next few days.


End file.
